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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24081352">Holdin' back my heart and soul</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>You're speaking my language [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek (TV) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:07:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24081352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Please pay attention to the tags.<br/>Nothing is compelling you to read this work of fiction.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Levy/Noah Reid, Noah Reid/Clare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>You're speaking my language [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was nearly 11:30 pm by the time the band had finished loading their gear after the last show of the second leg of the tour.  They’d graciously let Noah bow out of the manual labor, in favor of some time with fans at the stage door, and though he was absolutely exhausted, he still enjoyed the meet and greet with fans who were so happy for a quick hug, an autograph, or a pose for a silly picture.  With the crowd now gone, Noah finally pulled out his phone, and as usual, found an overwhelming number of notifications.  He decided to ignore Instagram for now, but scanned his emails quick for anything important before moving onto his texts.  There were the usual pre-show messages from his parents, his best friends back home, as well as his ride-or-die Schitt’s Creek castmates, each in turn expressing their well wishes for this final show in San Francisco. </p><p>However, disconcertingly, there were a string of messages, sent within the last hour, from a few acquaintances back home in Toronto.  The kind you really only hear from on birthdays or special occasions.</p><p>  </p><p>
  <span>Noah turned his phone off before he saw the image in the next text.  He didn’t want to know.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barber came around the corner.  “Ready to head’r?”  Noah nodded and followed Matt to the car. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Safe in his hotel room, Noah unlocked his phone and re-read the messages.  <em>Jesus Christ</em>.   He steeled himself before looking at the image taken in the low light of Otto’s Bierhalle.  There was no mistaking either party, cozied up in that booth.  Tears stung Noah’s eyes as his emotions cycled through shock, sadness, anger, eventually settling on an odd sense of calm.  </p><p>It was now far past 3:00 am Toronto time, but Noah didn’t care.  He tapped on the FaceTime icon and waited patiently while it rang.  His bedraggled, half-asleep, fiancee-for-now answered on the sixth ring. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Noah awoke shortly before 8:00 am, feeling heavy.  He checked his phone, and mercifully, there were no additional bad-news messages waiting for him.  Time for a hot shower to shake himself awake, and a coffee to give him the energy to plan his next move.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because there were a couple of weeks before the next leg of the tour, Noah had the luxury of options.  He could return home to Toronto and clear out of the apartment, or he could head up to his parents’ lakehouse on Lake Huron for some much needed rest, or he could rent a car and drive the west coast and sample all the food truck cuisine he could handle.  Or, he could take his friend and fake-husband, Dan, up on an offer to visit in LA at his new house.  He chewed on his bottom lip...a road trip sounded appealing.  Time alone, with loud music, and greasy food.  The lakehouse would be great too.  The sound of the ice cracking on Lake Huron at night, warmth by the fire, and hours of conversation with his dad, getting lost in conspiracy theories.  But somehow, the draw of the noise of LA was the strongest.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Band was on its way home, and Noah’s path diverged to LA.  His eyes widened when the Uber pulled up in front of Dan’s new home - of course it was beautiful.  Would Dan Levy ever settle for less?  He thanked the driver, grabbed his bag, and stepped confidently towards the front door.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His confidence crumbled the moment Dan opened the door.  <em>That look</em>.  He hadn’t had to deal with that look for several months now, and he had worked hard to forget the effect it had on him.  It hadn’t been easy - being the on-screen love interest of Dan Levy - but Noah had long since come to terms with the fact that being in show business meant being surrounded by beautiful people, and sometimes, temptation.  And he was nothing, if not loyal to a fault, even in the face of, <em>well</em>, someone like Dan. Who had been nothing but the consummate professional for the duration of their time working together.  Even now, his inner monologue reminded him that they were just friends.  It also unhelpfully supplied “<em>for now</em>”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan pulled him in, tucking his chin over Noah’s shoulder and wrapping him up tight.  And <strong>fuck</strong>, it felt like coming home.  More than every landing at Pearson International Airport combined had ever felt, and he wanted to bottle up this feeling, press it between the pages of a book, for comfort during the moments to come that were going to be inevitably so difficult.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan pressed a kiss to his temple.  “Let’s get you inside.  You must be exhausted.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Every day for the last ten days had started the same.  A dip in the pool, hot shower, coffee, and Dan asking him “What do you need today, Noah?”  Dan’s body language open, his face soft, ready to take care of him.  Noah hadn’t anticipated how difficult these days would be, and he appreciated the space to let go, to be honest with Dan, and to accept his care and concern.  Dan had held him while he cried, had listened for hours while Noah ranted about broken trust and years wasted, had made him macaroni and cheese, poured him whiskey, and made him tea.  Each day the balance of hurt and resolve shifted, and Noah felt stronger even as his impending departure loomed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morning eleven started no differently than the ten preceding.  Noah felt a little more tender than usual, and when Dan asked what he needed, he had no problem asking for a hug.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But also today, Noah felt brave.  He pulled back from the hug just far enough to be able to make eye contact with Dan.  His eyes darted between Dan’s own dark browns, and Dan’s lips.  He was familiar with the taste of those lips, as they had been prepared to speak as David, but now, he wanted to know how they tasted as Dan.  Post-pancake, black-coffee, Dan, still rumpled from sleep.  “Can I…?” he whispered.  Dan bit his lower lip, and nodded slightly.  Noah moved back into Dan’s space, their lips pressing together softly, a soft moan escaping from Noah’s mouth, the tension in Noah’s shoulders he didn’t know he was carrying released.  Dan gripped the back of Noah’s head lightly, his fingers threaded through the curls that had been growing since the end of shooting season six.  Dan mapped out every corner of Noah’s lips, before pressing their foreheads together, and taking a deep breath.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah closed his eyes, steadying his breathing.  “Are you okay?” Dan murmured, kissing him on the temple, like he had that first day.  “Mmhmmm,” Noah hummed, believing it for the first time in a long time. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They didn’t kiss again until early in the afternoon on the twelfth day.  Dan had continued to heap his attention on Noah as needed, testing the waters with a hand on the curve of Noah’s lower back as they stood in line at Trader Joes, or his knee while Dan drove, or just any other casual touches that had previously been stifled, but he was clearly letting Noah lead.  And it wasn’t that Noah didn’t want to kiss Dan.  In fact, it frightened him a little how much he wanted to kiss Dan.  How all the worries of the world had dropped away when Dan’s lips were pressed against his own.  But it’s just...this was new, even if elements of it were familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the thirteenth day, while it poured rain, Noah asked Dan to hold him on the couch.  Dan obliged, cocooning the two of them in a blanket, his arms wrapped tight around Noah’s compact body.  He felt Noah breathing in and out slowly.  “Do you want to talk about anything?” Dan asked softly, bravely, Noah knew.  Because as much as this was new to Noah, so much was also new to Dan, who had a relatively short, but tumultuous, romantic resume.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This...<em>it’s just so new</em>, Dan,” Noah let out on a sigh.  “And it’s a lot.  I leave in three days, and I’m returning to such a disaster, and I don’t know what that’s gonna look like.  Like, I feel like I’m breathing fully for the first time in who knows how long, instead of gulping for air in a polluted wasteland, but I don’t know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is either and it’s not fair to put this on you, when you’re, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan’s grip loosened long enough to pull Noah’s head against his chest, his cheek pressed against Noah’s hair.  His arms wound themselves around Noah once again.  “Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “I don’t really know what some of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> means.  But I do know that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>...</span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>can be whatever we want it to be, for as much, and as long, as we want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah’s voice was small.  “What do you want, Daniel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, Noah?  I want to go back to Toronto with you.  I want to be there to soften your landing.  But I can’t leave LA right now.  So I’m going to have to settle for three more days with you, and then hope to god you come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah nuzzled deeper into Dan’s chest, fisting his shirt, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, and his voice unable to rise above a whisper.  “I’m coming back, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Six <em>really fucking long</em> months later</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment the international border was reopened, Noah started making plans to return to LA.  He </span>
  <em>
    <span>itched</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be back with Dan.  Part of him wondered whether he would have ever left LA, had they known that the world was about to shut down for several months.  But the more rational side of him was actually a little grateful that it had - six months of nothing but time had given Dan and Noah an opportunity to really talk.  They had spent days just existing together on FaceTime doing banal tasks around their respective houses.  They experimented a little bit with intimacy, too, and had long conversations about what they liked, what felt good, and what they planned to do once they were finally reunited.  Mostly, they made the best of a terrible situation, reminding each other on the regular that it was temporary, though there was no end in sight for a long time, and some days felt devoid of hope.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Touchdown.  If luck was on his side, and luggage came quickly, an uber was near, and traffic played nice, Noah could be at Dan’s house in two hours.  Even so, that seemed an interminable length of time.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved as quick as his stocky legs would carry him to the luggage carousel, taking his place at the side, and tapping his foot impatiently, and paging mindlessly through his phone.  He only looked up when a body bumped into his - “hey!  Watch where you’re - ”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dan.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Looking cozy as fuck in a soft turtleneck, pulled up over his mouth and nose, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  His hair, still wild from lockdown, but his eyes shining.  Noah crashed into him, burying his face in Dan’s chest, gripping that soft sweater, never wanting to let go.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those strong arms wrapped around Noah’s neck, and that scruffy chin tucked itself over Noah’s shoulder where it just</span>
  <em>
    <span> fit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Noah felt Dan’s face wriggle free of his turtleneck for just a moment to press a soft kiss to his temple.  “Hey.  You must be exhausted.  Let’s get you home.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ok, it's really done now.  I'm not taking this particular work beyond a G-rating.  Keeping it fluffy and tender.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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